What Dreams May Come
by cynical
Summary: Logan gets nabbed for being Eyes Only and Max makes a big, bad descision.


Logan... where was Logan? He had to be in the apartment--he'd been 

there when she got there. /Damn all/ she thought. /Trust you to lose 

focus on people when you catch sight of three huge goons/. Max 

smiled--a dry, desperate grin that stretched her emotions to the 

breaking point. 

A sudden noise made her turn and stare out the window. A car was 

pulling away, leaving in its wake....a wheelchair? Not wishing to waste 

time with stairs and doors, or worse, elevators, Max climbed out the 

window and down the outside of the building, landing lightly as a 

raindrop on both feet and racing to her motorcycle, only a few steps 

away. 

As she gained on the screeching car--black, how clichéd--she strained

to 

see into its tinited windows. Sure enough, there was Logan, seemingly 

unconscious and propped up against the inside of the door. She revved 

her bike and pressed harder on the accelerator, squinting against the 

windflow and not exactly sure what she would do once she caught up

with 

them. 

Which turned out not to be a problem. Because one of them finally 

spotted her (she wondered later at their stupidity for not seeing 

her--or at least hearing her--before), pointed her out to his cronies, 

who fired on her. He apparently wasn't aiming to kill her, but he 

struck her fuel tank. She swore as the gasoline dribbled down onto her 

shoes, and swerved sharply to avoid patching out in the middle of a busy

street. 

******** 

Logan woke groggily in the car just moments after Max had been struck

by 

the bullet. It wasn't the sound that woke him--the drugs they were 

using on him were far too powerful--but the effects of another 

injecion. He found himself thinking whimsically (he had no idea why) of 

Shelley's Adonis, which he hadn't read in years. The next moment he was

subject to a rude awakening. 

"Hey, Eyes-Only," bulky goon sitting next to him said in a tone both 

mocking, and somehow so deadly serious that Logan's mind was instantly

focused on it. He felt a weight resting on his hand, and glanced down 

to see the barrel of a Magnum pressing into his skin. That focused his 

mind even more until it was razor sharp. He stared at the man beside 

him and blinked rapidly, eneavoring to clear Adonis from his mind. 

"We have several things to discuss with you, EYES-ONLY." Logan's eyes 

focused on the man beside him, who was grinning evilly. "Our boss 

doesn't like your . . . how should I put it? . . . activities." 

"I know several people whose bosses don't like my activities." Logan 

managed to reply in a slurred voice. "What of it?" 

"Our boss is . . . you might say . . . special. You might not like what 

he does to you. But you're the saintly political martyr type, 

aintcha?" The man began to laugh. "The boss oughta have fun with you. 

But first, *I* have a little matter to settle with you." He cleared is 

thoat, and chuckled again. In a moment all laughing and smiling was 

over. The two men had their whole selves concentrated on him and his 

answer. He began to feel uncomfortable. 

"Now you better think fast, Eyes-Only, and answer good. Because I'm 

feeling trigger happy and if I pull it, it'll hurt like fuck." The man 

was seemingly not finished speaking, so Logan stayed silent. "Darkish 

chick, dark hair, real dishy, black eyes, pouty mouth. Gave us a 

helluva time. Worked Don over real good. Are you gonna give me some 

answers, or am I gonna blow your hand off?" Logan's mind raced. So he 

had been right--Max had been in the apartment--and they hadn't caught

her. /Well, that's one lucky thing. At least now, when I die, I won't 

have her on my soul/. 

"Her name's Max." he said. "She works at the Jam Pony. Just a fling. 

She know karate or something?" 

The goon pulled the trigger. 

Through the pain, Logan heard him say "Liar." 

The man on his other side replied "Oh well, we'll know soon enough." 

A cold, harsh, bark of a laugh was heard. 

Logan lost consciousness. 

******** 

Max thrust herself in front of a taxi, which screeched to a halt to let 

her in. She told him what the car looked like, and that he should 

follow it at all costs. Luckily, she had all of that month's salary 

with her, which she stuffed into the man's hand as he stared down her 

cleavage. She toyed with the idea of slapping him, but she wanted him 

on her side. 

When they caught up with the car, it was just pulling into a warehouse. 

The warehouse had used to be the Gap. Max let out an incredulous laugh

when she saw the face of the guard at the door. He had grown up with 

her at Manticore. He hadn't tried to escape. 

She no longer remembered his name. 

But he remembered hers. 

"Max!" he said as she walked past him. 

"Hello, 264007821," she said coolly. 

"So you made it." 

"So far." 

"True. I have to kill you now. Unless you have an appointment...?" 

"Tell the boss I'm a friend of Eyes-Only's." 

"Ritzy. I'll tell him." He lifted his transistor radio to his mouth. 

"One of those from Manticore is requesting to be allowed to see 

Eyes-Only." he reported. 

"Really? Does this person have a name?" returned a voice with an LA 

accent. 

"Her name is Max." 

"Is it now? Detain her for a few hours. It will be interesting to have 

a little chat with her. Would you mind restraining her? Just a 

formality." 

"Not at all." He glanced semi-apologetically at Max and turned her, 

unprotesting, around so that he could bind her wrists together, then her 

ankles. 

"So," she said at length. "Why is it that I'm not allowed to see 

Eyes-Only right this instant?" 264007821 shifted guiltily. "Not at 

liberty to divulge?" Max put the words in his mouth. He smiled 

ruefully at her and nodded. "Are they going to torture him? Don't they 

think I can handle watching?" 

"They may torture him. But there's...a special treatment that the boss 

has for his...important guests. He shouldn't be interrupted." 

******** 

Logan found himself sitting in a room which to him, suggested the 

ridiculous noveau-art of the post-'05 years. He wasn't bound, or 

anything like that, but he found moving his arms as difficult as he was 

finding organizing his thoughts to be, and he obviously couldn't get 

anywhere on his legs. His hurt hand had been bandaged, and apparently 

the drugs were so strong he couldn't feel it. Eventually, a man he'd 

not seen before entered. 

Logan knew this man. He'd done several Freedom Stream broadcasts on 

him. His name was Vinnie Amsterdam. He was big in the LA black 

market--prostitution, drugs, ransom, blackmail--there wasn't much this 

guy DIDN'T do. 

"So," the man commented. "You are Eyes-Only. How strange. I expected 

something a little more muscular. Or perhaps more effeminate. But you 

are neither. Most confusing. What's your name?" The man didn't seem 

to expect an answer. He was looking something up on a Palm Pilot. 

"Logan?" he said in a moment, looking up and glancing at the 

aforementioned. "You don't look like a Logan. You look like an 

Alexander, or a Lewis [you could hear the double-u in the way he 

pronounced it], a Michael, or even a Dominic. But not a Logan." 

"So, am I here for a purpose?" Logan asked, refraining from commenting 

on his name. 

"Yes. I'd like some information. You, no doubt, will be reluctant to 

give it. I'd also like you to erase me from your file and from all 

future broadcasts. I KNOW you won't want to do that." 

"So, are you actually going to physically torture me, or are you just 

going to bore me until I tell you everything you want?" Logan suspected 

that if he hadn't been so drugged-up, he would have been extremely 

frightened. 

"Oh, I don't think you'll be bored. And I doubt that I'll do anything 

one could actually term 'torture'...I don't hold with that sort of 

thing. I find it tedious. I'm just going to hypnotize, and then 

brainwash you. Don't worry--it won't hurt." 

******** 

Eventually, 264007821's two-way radio beeped. He turned it on. 

"You can let her in now," the voice at the other end said. "Unbind 

her. She'll be more interesting that way." 

"OK," 264007821 replied, then glanced at Max apprehensively. As he 

unbound her, he said "I hope you're ready for what you'll see in 

there." Max shivered. 

As soon as her bonds were off, she lifted her leg and kicked 264007821 

hard in the jaw. As he slumped to the ground, she reached out and 

grabbed his handgun from him. Tucking it into her belt, she said 

"Thanks" and ran down the hall. 

She didn't like what she saw in the room where Logan sat. Or anyway, it 

looked like Logan. When she came in, he glanced up from the ground, all 

around the room, his eyes briefly resting on her face, then, with no 

sign of recognition, down again. 

"Logan!" she cried, her voice pitched higher than she'd meant, 

frightened. 

The man accross from her smiled. There was nothing nice about him or 

his smile. 

"He doesn't know you," the man told her. "He's my toy now." 

"Your TOY?" 

"Yes, and I added this amusing feature just for your benefit." He 

clapped his hands twice, and Logan began speaking in a dull voice, as 

though he were resigned, and as though what he was saying and why

meant 

nothing to him. 

"Lydecker is my friend. You should never have left Manticore. The 

government is good. Nothing good can come from cheating the 

government. Eyes-Only is dead. There is nothing good in protest. All 

must be ordered, or everything must be chaos. Your place is in 

fighting. You are a warrior--a killing machine, nothing more." 

He still hadn't looked at her. Max's gut clenched. For the first time 

she noticed the bandage on his hand--a shinig white flag telling her in 

a red language written in blood all she needed to know. These people 

were cruel. 

"He can never be redeemed. He is lost to you forever." The man's words 

fell on her pulsing ears like a freezing shower. "He'll never regain 

control. Not over me, not over people, not over any silly television 

cables." Then the man grinned. "Logan, strangle that woman accross 

from you." 

Max closed her eyes in desperation for a moment. When she opened

them, 

Logan was wheeling himself over to her in a wheelchair she'd never seen 

before--and his eyes were still on the floor. 

Max did the only thing she could think of. 

She lifted the pistol from her belt and fired. 

As Logan's body jerked from the impact of the bullet, she was sure she'd 

seen him thrust himself out of the wheelchair and onto the floor--of his 

own free will. 

******** 

Logan shuddered on the floor from the pain. He could feel his own mind 

returning to the surface, could feel himself shaking off the cobwebby 

bonds that had been placed on his mind. 

He twisted so that he could gaze into Max's eyes, which were full of 

horror at her own actions. He smiled at her, knowing finally that this 

was the end--this time, there would be nothing to save him, he could

not 

be redeemed one more time, either through his own actions, Max's, or 

some sort of miracle. He was dying, and it no longer mattered why. 

******** 

Max gazed at him, feeling her mind filling with tears that were not yet 

overflowing into her eyes. For a moment she was paralyzed, the only 

movement she seemed able to make was her arm dropping to her

side--the 

arm that held the gun that killed Logan. 

She knew that he was now free of whatever new-age thrall he'd been 

under. He smiled at her, as his body leaked its blood onto the floor. 

"Max!" he whispered, almost happily. She knelt down. He could not 

speak very loud, and she knew it. 

"What?" 

"Thank you!" He was smiling still. 

"For what?" She managed to choke out these few words, against her 

body's decrees. 

"This." Logan waved his good hand at the wound she'd just inflicted. 

She felt her stomach turn. 

"Why?" 

"You know why. It was the only thing, the best thing. I thank you for 

it." 

"Does it hurt?" 

"No. I'm not scared, either. Let's just see what comes next. You do 

know that I love you?" 

"Oh Logan! Me too." 

"Ain't just your meal ticket anymore...." he joked, almost inaudibly. 

"You gonna hafta learn ta cook now, eh Max?" As she gripped his hand, 

she could feel his own grip going limp in hers. She watched his eyelids 

flutter, she felt his pulse slow, she watched and felt and heard and 

didn't weep as he died. 

Then she stood up. 

She lifted her arm again. 

She shot all three gaurds, impersonally. She thought to herself that 

she was in shock. She didn't care. 

She was about to kill the leader--she recognized him from Logan's 

broadcasts...an LA black-market man. Vinnie Armstrong. 

She made the mistake of looking right into his eyes. 

As he looked into hers. 

He spoke softly, "Are you sure that's what you want to do?" 

Her hand faltered. Her chin dropped, she shook her head. Her arm 

dropped. 

"Now go," he ordered. "You don't really matter. I have no interest in 

keeping you." 

She turned, walked out the door. 

And halfway down the hall. 

She stopped. 

She turned. 

She walked back. 

She lifted her arm again. 

This time, she kept her eyes on his shirt. 

She fired. 

And walked back. 

******** 

On her way out, Max dropped the pistol next to its unconscious owner. 

"Goodbye, 264007821." What she meant was, goodbye Logan. 

She walked steadily, head held high, all the way to Logan's apartment. 

She let herself in. 

******** 

Max broadcasted her voice over the airwaves. 

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Freedom Stream video. I 

regret to inform you that the man you have known as Eyes-Only, Logan 

Cale, is dead. The man responsible for his death is Vinnie Armstrong 

[she showed a visual of his face, then a visual of Logan's], who is now 

also dead. I killed him. The level of corruption is still 

far-reaching. This is still the only free voice left in the community. 

Eyes still cannot be bought, or threatened. Only now they're my eyes. 

This has been a Freedom Stream video." 

She pushed herself away from the camera as she switched it off. 

She ran at a dead sprint back to her house. 

******** 

Max rested her head against the doorjamb for a moment, breathed in 

several shaky breaths, then began to cry. For the first time. Loud, 

messy sobs, sobs that racked her body and filled the apartment. 

Kendra came running. She was frightened now, more than she'd ever 

been. 

"Max! Are you all right? What's the matter? Are you hurt?" She had 

never, not once, NEVER, seen Max cry. Not a whimper, not a tear. Which

made this all the more terrifying. 

"Logan's dead." Max gasped. She felt as if those two words said more 

than any other words she'd ever said. But her next sentenced topped 

that. "I loved him." 

Kendra didn't know the half of it, but what she did know was plenty for 

her, and she gathered Max into her arms and let her friend's head rest 

against her chest as they both sobbed like children. Only Kendra was 

sobbing for Max and for Logan, and Max was sobbing not just for herself,

and not just for Logan, but for the whole world, which was worse off 

without him. Their loss. 

******** 

Bling called the next day. He'd found out every last detail of what had 

happend, God knows how, and needed to tell Max something. 

"Logan left you everything. Everything he owned." 

Max started living in Logan's apartment. She continued working at the 

Jam Pony, and she continued making Eyes Only broadcasts. She was

good 

at it. Perhaps not as good as Logan, but then saving the world had been

his idea, not hers. 

She kept his wheelchair. 

Missing him desperately, she sometimes spoke as if he were there. 

She did it so many times, not believing it, that she finally began to 

believe it. That he could hear her. That he was somehow, inexplicably, 

impossibly, with her. 

And each time she spoke to him, Logan's wraith, who was not in the 

wheelchair, but standing directly behind her, smiled quietly to 

himself.


End file.
